Baloney about says it all.
Remy made a snorting sound of disagreement. “All I know is that Claudia is the only one he wants showing up at his cell door.”
Claudia? He wants to see Claudia? The green monster of jealousy dug its claws into her heart.
Remy seemed to take particular note then of Claudia, who was sitting on the arm of the wing-back chair where René was seated. She looked as if she’d just come from the gym, wearing one of those black, crisscross spandex midriff tops and silk exercise pants.
“Hey, Clau-di-a,” Remy said with a grin.
“Hey, Re-my,” Claudia drawled right back at him, also grinning.
The green monster of jealousy evaporated in Sylvie as she took in the serious chemistry ping-ponging between these two. But back to the issue at hand. “I can protect myself,” she snarled. “Really, this Cajun Knight business of Luc’s goes only so far before it turns sour.”
“Did Luc offer to be your Cajun Knight?” Charmaine wanted to know. She was applying nail enamel with careless abandon, while seated in Sylvie’s great-grandmother’s delicate antique chair made of pallisandre or violet ebony. It was a priceless piece signed by none other than the New Orleans furniture maker Seignouret. “That is so cute of him. You should be flattered.”
Oh, yeah, I’m flattered. More like furious at his high-handed orders. Keep me away from the jail? Hah!
“Anyhow, shouldn’t you be worried about the warrant out for your arrest?” René reminded her. “I would think that a jailhouse is the last place you’d want to be seen.”
“I called Peter Finch, my lawyer, from the cell phone in Remy’s plane. He’ll take copies of the JBX legal documents to the district attorney’s office this morning. They’ll show my equal right to the love-potion formula. There’s no basis for criminal action against me.” She waved a hand dismissively.
“How about your mother?” Remy asked. “Remember those remarks she made about your mental stability?”
Sylvie bristled at that reminder. “I’m not going to be intimidated by my mother… not anymore. If she pushes me too far, she’s going to find out that I know more family secrets than she would care to air in public.”
Sylvie couldn’t believe she was behaving in such a calm manner… courageous, really, for one handicapped so often in the past by shyness. She guessed that when the people and things she valued most were jeopardized, fear took second place to outrage.
“Let’s have some coffee and make a plan,” Tante Lulu suggested, her arm around Tee-John’s shoulder.
“Good idea,” Claudia agreed. Then, to Sylvie, she added, “I need to update you on some things anyhow.”
Seated around the kitchen table, Claudia quickly reviewed all the intelligence she’d been able to gather while they’d been gone. Her data, in combination with the samples they had gathered and the documents Tee-John had pilfered, would go a long way toward putting some high-placed people in legal jeopardy, maybe even prison. Oh, they didn’t have the makings of a complete lawsuit at this point, but maybe enough for a pretrial settlement.
“Do you have those documents in a safe place?” Claudia asked Sylvie at one point.
“Yep.” Sylvie smiled widely. “Under the newspaper liner in the bottom of Samson and Delilah’s cage.”
Everyone laughed at that.
“I’ll take them with me when I go,” Remy said.
While they exchanged information, Tante Lulu took over Sylvie’s kitchen, brewing up a better pot of coffee than Sylvie had ever made… something about tossing egg shells in with the grounds or some such thing. Where she’d gotten egg shells, Sylvie had no idea, since she didn’t recall having any eggs in the house.
But then she heard something ominous, coming from her basement.
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” the sound came again. “Cluck, cluck, cluck.” “~
“What was that?” Sylvie had a sinking feeling even as she raised the question. They were all sitting around her kitchen table while Tante Lulu poured mugs of coffee for them, and diet pop for Tee-John.
Without missing a beat, Tante Lulu answered, “The chickens.”
“In my basement?” she squeaked out.
“Yeah, Sylvie, remember me telling you about that the other night?” Remy reminded her. “Flocking the bride?”